


Onegai, Choco-sama!

by UntramenTaro



Category: Vocaloid
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-04-03 20:20:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4113645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UntramenTaro/pseuds/UntramenTaro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Let's make Valentine's Chocolate!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Onegai, Choco-sama!

11PM. She leaned on the kitchen counter, sighing.

It was a complete and utter disaster, honestly. The counter was spotted with a brown murky residue and the pot on the stove contained what could be only described as a blackened sludge. A fine dusting of white powder coated her person and the kitchen.

“What are you doing?”

She was startled out of her dejected daze by the sudden voice. She glanced at the doorway at Kiyoteru, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed. 

They lived together, her and the AHSloids. In the 5 years she had lived in the house, she had been informally banned from any culinary attempts in the kitchen. Just a few months ago, the household unanimously voted to never bring up her attempt at curry ever again. 

His eyes were firmly reprimanding her for creating yet another mess that he had to clean up and she hung her head in shame. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t mean anything,” he said, as he strode over to the mess, “I’m asking what you are doing. What are you doing up this late in the kitchen, Miki?" 

He put an unnatural stress on her name, which caused her to flinch. She looked over at the carnage she had wrought upon the kitchen, and could not think of a satisfactory lie that could sound remotely believable, and instead muttered the truth in a low tone. "I was making Valentine’s chocolate…”

“I beg your pardon?” he said, glancing down at the counter. He swept up some of the gunk on the counter with his finger, surveying the sticky mass with a dissatisfied look.

“Valentines… chocolate…” she responded, a little louder this time. “I wanted to make chocolate so I was practicing…”

“Is that so?” As he turned to look at her, his stern look softened into a smile. “That’s admirable of you.”

“Well, you see that it didn’t pan out. I wanted to practice without the others knowing, because I know they’d make fun of me.”

“Are you going to give it another shot?”

“Probably not.”

His expression changed to one of disappointment. “Probably not? Why wouldn’t you want to try again?”

“I tried and it’s a failure, why should I keep trying?”

“Because you want to give it to the boy you like right? Don’t give up!”

She felt mortified at his words. Who did she want to give the chocolates to? She didn’t give it very much thought, but she simply was jealous of the enthusiasm the other girls had to making chocolates and wanted to give it a try. Nevertheless, the earnest look on his face made her heart catch in her throat. She hesitated for a moment, thinking about what to say. “Maybe I’ll give it another shot…”

He grinned. “I’ll help you in any way I can! But first we gotta get this mess cleaned up.”

———————————-

The next night, both of them had met up in the kitchen with a somber atmosphere, with a very distinct goal in mind.

“Do you have the recipe?”

“Right here.” He tapped a piece of paper he procured from his pocket with a solemn look. “I took a look at the truffle recipe. It shouldn’t be too difficult, especially with my supervision.”

There was a silence between them as they stared at each other grimly. Miki tried to keep her grave and serious expression, but she couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “I’m sorry, this is just too funny.”

His expression eased into a smile as well. “Well, are we ready to get started?”

She gave a thumbs up. “Ready.”

———————————–

Upon the trays laid out several delicate truffles, sequentially laid out from sloppy to neat as she slowly got the hang of portioning them out on the waxed paper. Wiping the sweat with the back of her hand, she surveyed her work.

“Not bad, not bad,” he nodded, “I’m sure that whoever you’re giving them to should be happy.”

“Time for a taste test, right? Shall you do the honors?”

“Right.” He picked up one of the sloppier truffles and plopped it into his mouth. He gave it a thoughtful chew before his face scrunched up. “Ergh.”

“No good?”

“Very bitter. I know there are people who would like it, but I’m not so partial to bitter chocolates.”

Miki picked one up herself, and hesitantly put it in her own mouth before creating a near replica of Kiyoteru’s expression from tasting it. “Eyuck!”

“Any idea what we did wrong?”

She spit out the globule of chocolate into the sink and tried to wipe off what was left on her tongue while speaking. “I hab noe ideyuh”

He looked over the recipe again. “Did we add sugar?”

“I thought we did…”

“It’s ok, let’s try something else tomorrow.”

————————————

They looked at the rock hard charred brick, which emanated a burnt yet cocoa smell.

“We followed the brownie recipe but we still messed up. Maybe it’s just the fact I’m cooking that this is happening…” she muttered.

“It’s not your fault! It’s…” he squinted at the recipe several times over, scanning the steps for what they possibly could have made a mistake on. “We did it flawlessly, except–oh.”

“Oh?" 

He threw back his head and ruffled his hair with a frustrated groan. "This is all my fault. I set the oven to 450 instead of 350.”

She stared at him. She wasn’t mad at him, not at all. She couldn’t help but notice his eyelashes and how long they were behind the thin frame of his glasses; her eyes traced the features of his face, following down his chin which was slender yet masculine, and down his neck to the gentle curve of his Adam’s apple. However, she caught herself before she went any further, and looked away while blushing slightly. She never took any particular notice on how he looked, but only just now came to notice that he was not bad to look at.

“Hey…” he straightened up, looking directly at her. “Say something. Get mad at me.”

“I don’t really want to be mad… this is just practice, after all.” She gave him a bashful upward glance. “Practice is so that way when I do the real thing, it will be perfect for him.”

“I guess you’re right.” Suddenly the corner of the cabinet seemed very interesting to him and he turned away. On his cheeks was the faintest twinge of red.

—————————————————–

“It’s beautiful, Miki." 

On the table lay a heart shaped chocolate ganache cake, with star fondant shapes placed on it.

She was happy and proud of her work, though exhausted.

"I’m sure the boy you’re going to give this to will be very happy with this.” He paused. “Don’t let him know that I helped to make this, I’m sure that no one is going to enjoy thinking that a cute girl poured her heart and soul into this cake and then learning a random man also had a hand in creating it. Whoever is getting this cake is a lucky guy. I’m jealous.” He laughed, or rather gave the vaguest suggestion of a laugh that soon was covered up by the sound of clattering pans as he busied himself with cleaning up.

She peered at him curiously, though he continually tried to avoid her gaze. He felt his face grow warm at her earnest gaze, and he felt some sense of shame from his very real jealousy.

“I-is something the matter, Miki?”

“It’s nothing. But,” she reached out to his face, “you have some of the ganache on your face.”

He swatted her hand away from his face with a swift movement and both stood there surprised at how quickly he had moved. He quickly wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, his face becoming flushed. 

“It’s still there.”

“Where?”

“Right there.”

“Here?”

“Not really.”

There was a stifling silence between them. They reached a sort of stalemate as he washed the dishes and pans and as she placed the cake into a box and tied it with a ribbon.

“So…” he murmured while wiping a plate dry, “who is the cake for?”

“Well,” she said, holding the box delicately in front of her, “I decided I’d give it to you.”

He nearly dropped the plate and caught it in the nick of time. “Huh?”

“It’s past midnight and it’s Valentine’s day now. Happy Valentine’s day.”

“But–”

“And about that ganache on your face. It’s right here.”

And she kissed him.


End file.
